INNKEEPER: (To JACQUES and his MASTER) He’s risen to the bait.

  JACQUES: Mine hostess, this Marquise is a monster.

  INNKEEPER: And the Marquis? He only had to stop not loving her!

  JACQUES: Mine hostess, no doubt you are unfamiliar with the charming fable of the Sheath and the Cutlass.

  MASTER: You’ve never told me that one…

  SCENE SIX

  The MARQUIS walks in an arc towards the INNKEEPER and speaks to her in a begging voice.

  MARQUIS: Well, Marquise, have you seen your lady friends?

  INNKEEPER: (To JACQUES and his MASTER) You see how caught he is?

  MARQUIS: That’s not very kind of you! They’re so poor, and you never even invite them to have a meal with you.

  INNKEEPER: I invite them, but in vain. It’s not surprising: if they were seen to be visiting me, everyone would say they were under the protection of the Marquise de La Pommeraye, and all the charity they receive would come to an end.

  MARQUIS: What! They live on charity!

  INNKEEPER: Yes, on the charity of their parish.

  MARQUIS: They’re your friends, and they have to live on charity!

  INNKEEPER: Ah, Marquis, we are far, we men and women of the world, from understanding the delicate sensibilities of pious people. They don’t accept help from just anyone. Only from hands which are pure and without blemish.

  MARQUIS: Do you know, I’m tempted to call on them.

  INNKEEPER: You would risk them losing everything. With that young lady’s charms it would need no more than a visit to set tongues wagging.

  MARQUIS: (With a sigh) It’s cruel.

  INNKEEPER: (With double meaning) Yes, cruel. That’s the word.

  MARQUIS: Marquise, you’re mocking me.

  INNKEEPER: I’m trying rather to protect you from great unhappiness. Because, Marquis, you are preparing great torments for yourself. You’re going to confuse this young girl with all the other women you’ve known. This young girl is not going to let herself be tempted like all the others. You are not going to get what you want.

  (The MARQUIS heads far the back of the stage with a weary air.)

  JACQUES: This Marquise is really naughty.

  INNKEEPER: (To JACQUES) Don’t defend men, Monsieur Jacques. Have you forgotten quite how much Mme de La Pommeraye loved the Marquis? She’s still madly in love with him. Each of his words is a dagger thrust into her heart. Can’t you see that what she’s doing is setting up a hell for both of them?

  (MARQUIS semi-circles back to the INNKEEPER. She looks at him.)

  My God, you look dreadful!

  MARQUIS: (Pacing up and down the stage) I’m haunted. I can’t stand it any more. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. For a fortnight I’ve drunk like a fish then I’ve prayed like a monk, in the hope of catching a glimpse of her in church … Marquise, you must make it possible for me to see her! (MARQUISE sighs.)

  You are my one friend!

  INNKEEPER: I would gladly help you, Marquis, but it’s difficult. She mustn’t think that I’m in cahoots with you …

  MARQUIS: I beg you!

  INNKEEPER: (Imitating him) I beg you! … what does it matter to me whether you’re in love or not? Why should I complicate my life? It’s your problem.

  MARQUIS: I implore you! If you desert me, I’m lost. If you can’t do it for my sake, do it for theirs! I can’t answer for myself any longer. I’ll smash their door down and you don’t know what I’m capable of!

  INNKEEPER: As you wish. But at the very least, give me time to prepare …

  (At the back of the stage, the servants have put chairs and a table in place. The MARQUIS goes out.)

  SCENE SEVEN

  INNKEEPER: (Upstage, where the MOTHER and DAUGHTER are entering) Good, come on, come on. Stand with me and we’ll start. (They sit at the table, upstage. There are now two tables on stage: the lower one, where JACQUES and his MASTER are sitting, the higher one on the rostrum.)

  JACQUES: (Calling out to the INNKEEPER) Mine hostess! This woman is a bitch!

  INNKEEPER: And the Marquis, Monsieur Jacques? Angel, is he?

  JACQUES: Why should he be an angel? Has man no choice but to be angel or animal? You would no doubt be wiser if you were acquainted with the fable of the Sheath and the Cutlass.

  MARQUIS: (Approaching the women, feigns surprise) Oh! … I’m afraid I’m disturbing you.

  INNKEEPER: (Equally surprised) Indeed … we were not expecting you, Marquis.

  MASTER: Such actors!

  INNKEEPER: But since you’re here, please dine with us.

  (MARQUIS kisses the ladies’ hands and sits down.)

  JACQUES: I’m sure this isn’t going to interest you much. I’ll tell you the fable of the Sheath and the Cutlass.

  MARQUIS: (Joining in the ladies’ conversation) I couldn’t agree with you more. What are life’s pleasures? Dust and smoke. Do you know the man I admire above all others?

  JACQUES: Don’t listen, sir!

  MARQUIS: You don’t know? I’ll tell you: St Simon Stylites. My patron saint.

  JACQUES: The fable of the Sheath and the Cutlass is the moral of morals, and the foundation of all knowledge.

  MARQUIS: Imagine, ladies! Simon spent forty years of his life on a forty-foot column praying to God!

  JACQUES: Listen. The Sheath and the Cutlass were fighting like rag-and-bone men. Cutlass said to Sheath: Sheath, my love, you’re a real whore, every day you get entered by another cutlass. And Sheath replied to Cutlass: Cutlass, my love, you’re a right bastard, because you change sheaths every day.

  MARQUIS: Imagine, ladies, forty years of his life on a forty-foot column!

  JACQUES: This row took place at table. And the person who was sitting between Sheath and Cutlass, said the following: My dear Sheath, and you, my dear Cutlass, you can easily change sheaths and cutlasses, but you will have made a grave mistake the day that you promise not to change any more. Do you not know, Cutlass, that God made you to penetrate many sheaths?

  DAUGHTER: This column was really forty foot high?

  JACQUES: And you, Sheath, have you not learned that God made you for many cutlasses?

  (MASTER has listened to JACQUES without looking at the rostrum. After these last words, he laughs.)

  MARQUIS: (With amorous tenderness) Yes, child. Forty foot high.

  DAUGHTER: And Simon didn’t get giddy?

  MARQUIS: No. He was not giddy. And do you know why, child?

  DAUGHTER: No.

  MARQUIS: Because from the heights of his column, he never looked down. His eyes were perpetually trained on God, towards the heights. And whoever looks up to the heights, can never get giddy.

  ladies: How true!

  MASTER: Jacques!

  JACQUES: Yes.

  MARQUIS: (Taking leave of the ladies) This has been a great honour for me.

  MASTER: (Amused) Your fable is immoral. I reject it, I deny it, and I declare it null and void.

  JACQUES: But you liked it!

  MASTER: That’s not the point! Who wouldn’t like it? Of course it pleased me!

  (Upstage, the servants have taken the table and chairs away. JACQUES and his MASTER look at the rostrum again. The MARQUIS approaches the INNKEEPER.)

  SCENE EIGHT

  INNKEEPER: Well, Marquis, could you find a woman in the whole of France who would do for you what I have done?

  MARQUIS: (Kneeling at her feet) You are my only friend …

  INNKEEPER: Let’s change the subject. What does your heart say?

  MARQUIS: I must have that girl or I’ll burst.

  INNKEEPER: I would be very happy to save your life.

  MARQUIS: I know this is going to annoy you, but I have to tell you: I have sent them a letter, and a box of jewels. But they sent them back – both of them.

  INNKEEPER: (Severely) Love is corrupting you, Marquis. What have these poor women done to you to deserve being dirtied? You think virtue can be bought for a few stones?

  MARQUIS: (Still on his knees) Forgive me.

  INNKEEPER: I anticipated you. You are incorrigible.

  MARQUIS: Dear friend. I want to make one last attempt. I’m going to make over to them one of my houses in town and another in the country. I’m going to give them half of all I own.

  INNKEEPER: As you please … But honour has no price. I know these women.

  (She goes towards the MARQUIS. He remains on his knees on the stage. Having come from the other side of the stage, the MOTHER goes towards the INNKEEPER and kneels in front of her.)

  MOTHER: Mme la Marquise! Allow us not to refuse this offer! Such a great fortune! Such great wealth! Such a great honour!

  INNKEEPER: (To the MOTHER, still on her knees) You imagine that what I did was done to make you happy? You will now go immediately and refuse the Marquis’s offer.

  JACQUES: What more does she want, this woman?

  INNKEEPER: (To JACQUES) What does she want? Certainly not the good of these women. They mean nothing to her, Monsieur Jacques! (To the MOTHER) Either do as I tell you, or I shall send you straight back to your brothel!

  (She turns her back on them and finds herself face to face with the MARQUIS, who is still on his knees.)

  MARQUIS: You are right, dear friend. They refused. I am in despair. What should I do? You know what I’ve determined on, Marquise? I shall marry her.

  INNKEEPER: (Feigning surprise) Marquis, this is a serious matter which requires mature reflection.

  MARQUIS: What’s the use of reflection! I can hardly be unhappier than I am!

  INNKEEPER: Gently, now, Marquis. We’re talking about your whole life. You shouldn’t be hasty. (Pretending to think about it) These women are virtuous, that’s certain. Their heart is pure as snow … perhaps you’re right. Poverty is not a vice.

  MARQUIS: Go and see them, I beg you. And inform them of my intentions.

  (INNKEEPER turns toward the MARQUIS and extends her hand to him; she makes him stand up, and they are now facing each other; she smiles.)

  INNKEEPER: Very well, I promise.

  MARQUIS: Thank you.

  INNKEEPER: What would I not do for you.

  MARQUIS: (Suddenly euphoric) But tell me, you who are my one real friend, why don’t you get married too?

  INNKEEPER: To whom, Marquis?

  MARQUIS: To the little count.

  INNKEEPER: That dwarf?

  MARQUIS: He’s rich, witty …

  INNKEEPER: And who will guarantee his faithfulness to me? You, perhaps?

  MARQUIS: Faithfulness in a husband is easily dispensed with.

  INNKEEPER: Not to me. It would offend me. Besides, I am of a vengeful nature.

  MARQUIS: If you’re of a vengeful nature, we’ll revenge you. That wouldn’t be too bad. I tell you what: we’ll rent a palace for the four of us and be happier than a club with four leaves.

  INNKEEPER: That wouldn’t be bad, no.

  MARQUIS: If your dwarf annoys you, we’ll put him in a vase on your bedside table.

  INNKEEPER: Your proposal is very attractive, but I shall not marry. The only man I could ever marry …

  MARQUIS: Is me?

  INNKEEPER: I can now admit it without fear.

  MARQUIS: Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

  INNKEEPER: From what I can see, I’ve done the right thing. Who you have chosen will suit you better than me.

  (The DAUGHTER advances from the back of the stage in her white bridal gown. The MARQUIS goes to meet her as if in a trance.)

  MARQUIS: Marquise, I will be beholden to you for the rest of my days …

  (He goes slowly to meet the DAUGHTER. They kiss and will remain in each other’s arms for a long time.)

  SCENE NINE

  The INNKEEPER, while the MARQUIS and the DAUGHTER prolong their embrace, slowly walks backwards, never taking her eyes off them, till she reaches the back of the rostrum. Then she says to the MARQUIS:

  INNKEEPER: Marquis!

  (The MARQUIS hardly hears her words, entwined as he still is with the DAUGHTER.)

  INNKEEPER: Marquis! (The MARQUIS slightly moves his head in her direction.) Was your wedding night to your satisfaction?

  JACQUES: Jesus! What!

  INNKEEPER: I’m happy to hear it. Now: listen to me. You had an honest woman that you didn’t know how to keep. That woman was me. (JACQUES starts laughing.) I’ve taken my revenge on you by making you marry someone worthy of you. Go to the rue Hambourg and you’ll discover how this woman used to earn her living! Your wife and your mother-in-law!

  (The INNKEEPER roars with satanic laughter. The DAUGHTER throws herself at the MARQUIS’s feet.)

  MARQUIS: Wretch, wretch …

  DAUGHTER: (At his feet) Marquis, trample on me, wipe me cut …

  MARQUIS: Get away from me, wretch …

  DAUGHTER: Do with me what you will …

  INNKEEPER: Run, Marquis! Run to the rue Hambourg! And when you get there put up a commemorative plaque: Here Whored the Marquis des Arcis.

  (More satanic laughter from the INNKEEPER)

  DAUGHTER: (On the ground, at the MARQUIS’s feet) Monsieur, have pity on me …

  (The MARQUIS pushes her away with his foot, the DAUGHTER tries to hold on to his leg, but he pulls himself away. The DAUGHTER stays on the ground.)

  JACQUES: Hostess! That can’t be the end of the story!

  INNKEEPER: Sure it is. I wouldn’t risk adding what might be to it, if I were you.

  (JACQUES leaps on to the rostrum and stands exactly where a moment ago the MARQUIS was: the DAUGHTER wraps herself around his legs.)

  DAUGHTER: Monsieur le Marquis, let me at least hope for your pardon!

  JACQUES: Get up!

  DAUGHTER: (On the ground, grabs him by the legs) Do with me what you will, I’ll submit to anything at all.

  JACQUES: (His voice sincere and emotional) Get up, I tell you … (The DAUGHTER doesn’t dare to do so.) Many honest girls become dishonest women. Why shouldn’t the opposite happen for once? (Tenderly) I am moreover convinced that your debauchery has merely enhanced your loveliness. It never so much as reached it. Get up. You hear me? I have forgiven you. At the worst, most shameful moment, I never ceased to think of you as my wife. Be honest, be faithful, be happy, and make me all of those things. I ask no more of you. Get up, wife. Madame la Marquise, get up! Get up, Mme des Arcis.

  (The DAUGHTER gets up, hugsJACQUES and kisses him with abandon.)

  INNKEEPER: (Shouting from the other side of the stage) She’s a whore, Marquis!

  JACQUES: I should watch your mouth, Mme de La Pommeraye!

  (To the DAUGHTER) I have forgiven you, and it is very important to me that you understand that I have no regrets. This woman (Indicates the INNKEEPER) instead of revenging herself on me, has performed me a great service. Are you not younger than she, more beautiful, and a hundred times more devout? We shall now leave together for the country where we shall live for many happy years.

  (He crosses the rostrum with her, then turns to the INNKEEPER, dropping the role of the MARQUIS.) And I may tell you, mine hostess, that they were very happy. Because nothing is certain in this world, and things change meaning as the wind blows. And the wind never stops blowing, and you never even know it. And the wind blows and happiness turns to unhappiness and vengeance to reward, and a loose girl becomes a wife faithful beyond compare …

  SCENE TEN

  During JACQUES’s last few speeches, the INNKEEPER comes down from the rostrum and sits at the table where JACQUES and his MASTER sit; the MASTER grabs her by the waist and drinks with her.

  MASTER: Jacques, I don’t like the way you ended that story! That girl didn’t deserve to become a Marquise! She reminds me terribly of Agathe. Scheming bitches, both of them.

  JACQUES: You’re wrong, Master.

  MASTER: What! Me, wrong?

  JACQUES: You’re very gravely wrong.

  MASTER: Someone called Jacques is going to give me, his master, lessons? Going to explain to me whether I’m right or wrong?

  (JACQUES releases the DAUGHTER, who withdraws during the remaining dialogue and leaps off the rostrum in one.)

  JACQUES: I am not someone-called-Jacques. I would like to remind you that you called me your friend, as a matter of fact.

  MASTER: (Touching up the INNKEEPER) Should I wish to call you my friend, you will be my friend. And should I wish to call you someone-called-Jacques, you will be someone-called-Jacques. Because, up there, you know, up there! as your old captain would say, up there it is written that I am your master. And I order you to withdraw the ending of that story which displeases me, as indeed it displeases Madame the Marquise de La Pommeraye, whom I revere (Kisses the INNKEEPER) because she is a noble lady who has a magnificent arse …

  JACQUES: You really think, Master, that Jacques can withdraw the story that he’s told?

  MASTER: If his master wishes it, Jacques will withdraw his story!

  JACQUES: I’d like to see that, really, I would. Sir.

  MASTER: (Still fondling the INNKEEPER) If Jacques continues to be obstinate, his master will have to send him to the stable, to sleep with the goats!

  JACQUES: I won’t go!

  MASTER: (Kissing the INNKEEPER) You’ll go.

  JACQUES: I won’t go.

  MASTER: (Shouting) You will go!

  INNKEEPER: Sir, could you possibly do something for the lady you’ve just kissed?

  MASTER: For that lady, anything.

  INNKEEPER: Stop quarrelling with your servant. I do see that he’s particularly insolent, but I think you need a servant exactly like him. It is written up there that you can’t get by without each other.

  MASTER: (To JACQUES) You hear that, valet? Mme de La Pommeraye has just said that I shall never be able to get rid of you.

  JACQUES: You are going to be able to get rid of me, Master, because I’m going to sleep in the stable with the goats.

  MASTER: (Rising) You won’t go!

  JACQUES: I will go. (Leaves slowly)

  MASTER: You will not go!

  JACQUES: I’ll go.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8